


Forgive Me? For What?

by LadyAquatica



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: I'm Sorry, Other, Product of High Sugar Intake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAquatica/pseuds/LadyAquatica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble: Sometimes, all it takes is a little push.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Me? For What?

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for all the inaccuracies. @.@
> 
> Imported from my Lunaescence account, so if you've seen it before, that's why. >.>  
> Originally from 2009.

It had been a while since he last hesitated while getting ready for a meeting. He fumbled with his tie, wondering what would happen. Would she scream and yell? Or would she refuse to talk? Would she try to attack him? 

Shivering at the cold air that blew in through the window, he walked over to it, his bright blue eyes looking outside the window, into the street. He could see a blonde heading toward the building where the meeting would take place. The pristine green military uniform of the Brit stood out against the dark suits and tattered jeans of his people. It was England; maybe he would know what to do? 

When he was a child, still a small colony, he had always looked up to his older brother for help. Whether it was a scraped knee or a scary nightmare, the older blonde was always there for him. He had been there for him when it started, when his towers fell. He’d be there for him now. 

Grabbing his worn bomber jacket, the blonde shrugged it on, heading toward his older brother for advice. 

* * *

“Sister?” The words tumbled from your lips as Jordan brushed your long hair, unknotting it carefully. 

“Yes Iraq?” said the other nation, her words soft. Though she was younger than you, not by much, she was the one you looked to with your troubles. 

You fidgeted slightly, toying with the end of the (f/c) blouse. The gold bangles on your wrists clanged together lightly. Looking down, you averted your eyes from Jordan’s prying gaze. 

Sighing, the younger nation shook her head at you. “(y/n), just tell me. Is it because of America?” 

You stopped fidgeting and sighed. Looking up at Jordan’s warm chocolate gaze, you admitted what had been plaguing you. “What if he yells at me? Or, what if he tries to end the war at the meeting?” 

Jordan stared at you blankly for several moments, torn between laughing and telling you just how wrong you were. After several seconds, she began to giggle. 

“Malika! I’m serious!” you cried, obviously distressed. “This war has been a disaster!” 

Jordan shook her head and tapped your forehead lightly. “Stop that. America is very kind. I know this war has been hard for you, it’s been hard for a lot of people, but remember what you always told me? Go on and make friends. Relationships between countries and their people are different from relationships between us.” 

You smiled and buried your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I’ve just been schooled by my _younger_ sister.” 

Malika laughed and soon, you were laughing too. 

* * *

You sighed, head resting on your palm as you toyed with a pen. Now you remembered why you had stopped going to meetings. Either everyone was fighting, or everyone was being boring. 

A knock on the doors awakened you from your musings as a familiar face poked her head in. “Lunch is ready.” She sang, teasing you. 

You stared at her blankly as the other nations cheered, glad to be free. When you got to her, she’d pay. That lousy little- 

“Iraq?” 

Looking up, you met the blue gaze of America and flinched. “Please excuse me America,” you said, ducking away, heading for the door. Jordan had left and closed the door behind her. You made note to talk to her about abandoning people in need later. 

A calloused hand closed around your wrist lightly. “(Y/n)… Please, just hear me out.” He sounded pathetic, tired. 

Hesitant, you turned to meet his eyes. They were pleading with you, asking for forgiveness. You smiled at him wearily. You had put up this façade for far too long. Nodding, you motioned for him to go on. 

“I’m sorry. I honestly cannot tell you-” 

“What are you sorry for?” You cut in. Your voice was soft, only barely heard by the blonde. He looked at you questioningly, though you couldn’t see it. Lifting your eyes, you continued. “Don’t be sorry. You’re trying to help my people. For that, I’m grateful. If anything, I should be sorry. Many of your soldiers have died because of this war.” 

“And your people? They’ve died too. They died because of my involvement…” The blonde trailed off, looking ashamed. 

You paused, not knowing what to do. Breathing in deeply, you turned his gaze to meet yours. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips lightly to his before pulling away. “Don’t be ashamed for trying to help me. Be proud that you’ve managed to help so much. Thank you… Alfred.” 

**Omake**

Jordan put a finger to her lips as a sign to be quiet. Her eyes glinted mischievously. Motioning for the others to follow, she led them toward the meeting room and pushed the door open slightly. 

And there you were, with America, in a compromising position which you would later refuse to acknowledge. All you needed was a little push. From Jordan of course.

* * *


End file.
